A series of gunshots rang out from the direction of the pyramids. “You mustn’t say things like that in public,” Madu said, looking around to see if anyone might have heard him. “Don’t you remember what happened?”
“Of course, I remember,” Madu’s grandfather said solemnly, looking down as he and Madu walked home. “They tried to do what needed to be done for the people. For Egypt!”
“Yes, but they failed and lost their lives because of it.” Madu put his arm around his grandfather’s shoulders. “I told them it was too soon. The day I learned of their plan, I told them to wait; the Khufus had just brokered the peace agreement. In time, that accord will weaken and fall apart. That will be a more opportune moment to strike. But as it was, they should have known. They even chose to strike the most heavily guarded of targets, the power plant. Khalfani guards it with eighteen of his best Medjay. It was not the right time or place.”
“But how long will the people have to wait before they reclaim their freedom?” Madu’s grandfather asked. “I do not believe that the Great Disruption removed us from the clutches of one group of tyrants only to land us with worse. Why would Neter do that?”
“Grandfather,” Madu said, “you might be the only man on earth who believes that the Great Disruption was brought on by the hand of God.”
“Who else could it have been?” his grandfather asked. “Who would have provided the world with such a golden opportunity to start over? No, it was Neter, acting out of compassion, who provided that opportunity. And look how we have squandered it! Our people, who fought hard to claim their freedom before the Great Disruption, turned weak when the Khufus arrived. They didn’t fight.”
The two men made the rest of their two-mile trek home to Tehut in silence. By the time they entered their small house, the sun had set. There would be no electricity until sometime the next day. They went to their beds knowing that when the sun rose, the struggle of life would start again. As on countless other nights over the past two years, Madu had trouble falling asleep. But this time, it wasn’t because of his thin, well-worn mattress or the clamoring of noisy neighbors. Tonight his mind was racing with thoughts of the young woman he had seen at the soccer match. Who was she, and why did she seem to recognize me?
Madu was awakened the next morning by the grinding sound of the water pumps. He dressed quickly and grabbed two pails. He needed to get to the dispensing station while the water was still flowing. Otherwise, he would have to risk walking to the river to get their supply of water. Bored teens congregated on the river road and amused themselves by throwing rocks at people carrying water back from the river, trying to make them spill it. When Madu arrived at the station, the line was long, and fights had already broken out. Two Medjay guards stood nearby, doing nothing to restore order. Madu could see he would get no water from the station today. His only choice was the river.
As he approached the Nile, he saw the banks were relatively empty. Only a few other people were filling pails. He took off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and walked into the water, holding his dented pails. The Medjay were patrolling the river in boats, looking for anyone who might be trying to move illegally between the nomes. Madu stood for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the cool water on his legs. A kilometer to the south, he could see the electrical generators of Ati. His parents had died because of those generators. He wondered for a moment what life would have been like if they had succeeded in carrying out their plan.
Last year, Madu’s parents and five other brave souls had attempted to overthrow Khufu Khalfani by taking control of the power plant for the people. If they had succeeded, they might have been able to muster the resources to take down the remaining eleven Khufus. Instead, everyone involved in the plot had been rounded up by masked Medjay guards the night before the attack was to take place. One of the collaborators had been loyal to the Khufu. Madu and his grandfather had barely escaped that night, fleeing and taking up residence where they lived today.
“You could drown,” a voice said, interrupting Madu’s thoughts. He turned around, still holding the empty pails, and saw a familiar face. It was the young woman from the Jubilee, seated on a brown Arabian horse with two mounted guards behind her. “I thought it was you,” she said, hopping down to him. She motioned to her Medjay guards to continue riding, which they did with some hesitation. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Madu remained silent, looking intently at the young woman’s face. She stood only a few meters away from him on the riverbank.
“Well, I remember you,” she said, taking the scarf from around her waist and wrapping it around her face, revealing only her forehead and eyes. “Maybe this will help.”
Madu dropped his empty pails into the river. He recognized her now, to his horror. “You were part of the group that came and arrested my parents!”
“Quiet,” the young woman said, as she looked over her shoulder to make sure that the guards had ridden away. She removed the scarf from her face and tied it back around her waist. “Things are not what they seem. I was helping your parents. I was providing them with information about the layout of my father’s power station and the fuel supply. Like them, I wanted to see a free Egypt. But we were betrayed.”
“Your father?” Madu asked.
“Yes. My father is Khufu Khalfani,” the woman replied. “Though I am not proud of that fact.”
“Why would you take down your own father?” Madu asked doubtfully.
“Leave him in error who loves his error,” the young woman answered. “No, my father is an evil man to be certain. The life I was born into is not the one I choose to live. One must be prepared to do what is needed in order to be liberated from the ill-conceived notions of others. Be they good men or bad.”
“You are a philosopher?” Madu asked sarcastically. “Your words cannot wash the blood from your hands.”
“Perhaps not. But I work every day to rid my hands of those stains.”
Madu didn’t answer. He just stared at her, fists clenched.
“I came that night to warn your parents,” the young woman said. “I thought I could reach them before the guards arrived.” She walked into the water and picked up Madu’s pails, which were floating away. She was only an arm’s length from him. “But do you think I didn’t see you and your grandfather flee through the back door the moment the guards seized your parents? I would have done anything to see all of you escape.”
She handed the pails to Madu, who still remained silent. She walked out of the river and back to her horse. In the distance, the Medjay were motioning for her to hurry and join them.
“Your father and mother were heroic people,” she said to him before parting. “There are those of us who still believe in a life without the Khufus. If you want to avenge your family, come back here tomorrow at this same time. Tell no one, not your grandfather or that friend of yours.”
“What is your name?” Madu asked, still unsure if he could trust her but certain that he wanted to see her again. “I am Madu.”
The young woman smiled. “Nadine,” she answered. “My name is Nadine.”
Then she adjusted the reins and rode off.
10
Everything that takes place in your universe is from the result of a series of quantum events.
The question is, what meaning have you assigned to the events that you witness?
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN, 8:16 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 20, 2070
Madu had indeed shown up the next day at the same spot on the bank of the Nile. Nadine again arrived on horseback, the Medjay guards replaced by an older man and woman who turned out to be her uncle and aunt. The three of them were part of a growing group of Cairenes determined to end the Khufus’ reign by commandeering not only the large electrical generator and petroleum supply in the nome of Ati but also the large weapons cache in Sap-Meh. While Madu knew he was engaged in a plot that could get him killed, he had come to trust Nadine. Or had he simpl
y fallen in love with her?
She repeatedly assured him that they could trust her aunt and uncle, who abhorred her father’s treatment of the people of Cairo as much as they did. In commandeering the power station, they would take advantage of the timing of the guards’ shift changes and use a large store of automatic weapons her uncle had secreted in the cellar of his house during the Great Disruption. And this time, the details of the plot would be known in full only to a handful of the twenty-six conspirators. It was an ambitious, dangerous plan, and over the next ten months, Madu found himself walking in his mother and father’s footsteps. Even to the point where he was betrayed as they were.
Once again, a traitor had given up the plot to Khufu Khalfani. The conspirators, including Madu, Nadine, her aunt, and her uncle, were rounded up. Khufu Khalfani did not attend the circus of a trial, claiming it was because he was so disgusted with the actions of his third wife’s eldest daughter. The collaborators were summarily judged by another Khufu and sentenced to death. But unlike his parents, Madu would not be executed in Tahrir Square. The entire group of twenty-six conspirators would have the opportunity to fight for their lives in the Pyramid Run during the upcoming Summer Jubilee . . .
“Sir, would you like chicken or falafel?” a woman’s voice asked.
Startled out of his reverie, Madu looked up at the pretty flight attendant. “Falafel, please.” He eyed the meal that was set in front of him. A serving of falafel with some dolma. It reminded him of his final meal before the race to the top of the Menkaure Pyramid. The goal of the Pyramid Run was simple: make it to the top of the Menkaure Pyramid before getting shot and killed by the Medjay, who were below showing off their marksmanship as they picked off the climbers one by one. If a climber somehow managed to reach the top of the pyramid, not only would his life be spared, but so would the life of another person of his choosing. Provided, of course, that that person was still alive.
A rifle shot struck a limestone block just above Madu’s right shoulder. He looked down and saw four of the elite Medjay guards aiming their guns at him. A chorus of cheers and horrified screams came from the thousands watching the spectacle unfold. Madu turned upward. He had only made it halfway to the top, and the most harrowing part of the climb was yet to come. If he and Nadine were to survive, he had to push on.
Another shot rang out. Madu ducked, not seeing where the errant bullet went. The roar of the crowd grew louder. Madu’s hands were getting sore. His knees and feet were bloodied from more than an hour of climbing. He wondered how the others were faring and, more important, how Nadine was. A loud scream sounded, curdling the blood in his veins. Madu turned and saw another of his fellow conspirators tumble down the side of the pyramid. The Medjay down below were celebrating the kill. Madu had counted twenty-one such screams. There were only five climbers left. He made his way across a ledge and swung himself around the corner of a jetty block, which provided some cover. From there, he could see Nadine lying on a ledge just below him. “Grab my hand,” he said, reaching out to her.
“No,” she called back, out of breath. “What are you doing? You must keep going. It is better for us to stay apart. One of us must make it to the top if we are to survive.”
“Survive? No one has ever survived the run. Our lives are not our own. They never were in this new Egypt.” Madu suddenly felt very weary and helpless. “Your father will not let us go.”
“We cannot give up! We must go on!” Nadine insisted. “Go!” She sprang to her feet and ran along the narrow edge of the limestone blocks away from Madu. Flecks of stone burst in all directions as bullets struck around her.
Madu watched Nadine disappear around the western side of the pyramid. He looked down and watched two guards run around the base, tracking her. The other two were watching him, waiting for Madu to continue. It began to rain, making his climb even more perilous. But at the same time, it also made it more difficult for the guards to aim their rifles accurately. Block by block, level by level, Madu made his way up the Menkaure Pyramid. From time to time, he would hear gunfire and a reaction from the crowd. Two more screams, two more deaths. Now there were only three climbers left. Madu had to navigate over the putrid, vulture-ravaged remains of past traitors who had not fared well during their Pyramid Runs. More shots rang out, and Madu saw the burst of limestone nearby. The guards were focusing on him, yelling frantically below. He looked up. He was close to the top.
The rain poured down, and the cheers from the crowd reached a feverish pitch as Madu arrived at the block of stone just below the apex of the pyramid. It was the farthest any climber in the Pyramid Runs had gotten. The Medjay fired more rapidly now, because if any climber succeeded in reaching the top, the guards would lose their own lives. Amid bits and pieces of stone flying in all directions, Madu looked down. He couldn’t see Nadine anywhere on his side of the pyramid. He called out her name, but there was no answer. He yelled louder, but still there was no response. Madu looked up. One last block left to climb. He leaped up through a barrage of gunfire and grabbed hold of the ledge. More bullets landed near his right hand. With all his remaining strength, Madu pulled himself up, falling exhausted onto the set of blocks that had once supported the capstone of the ancient structure.
The crowd went wild. The gunshots ceased. Madu had made it.
But what about Nadine? He rose to his feet and looked down all four sides of the pyramid. She lay motionless on the eastern face, on a ledge about fifteen meters below him. His heart sank. He could see blood on her right hip.
“Nadine!” Madu yelled. She didn’t move. He yelled her name again. She’s dead, he thought, covering his face with his hands. I have survived, but for what? For whom? No one had ever succeeded in the Pyramid Run. Would the Khufus really keep their promise and let him go?
Madu heard an angry roar from the crowd. He moved to the edge and saw four Medjay climbing toward him. His question was answered: neither he nor any other climber would be allowed to live. It was a competition only the Khufus could win. Madu dropped back down to the ground.
As he sat stoically at the top of the pyramid, waiting for the Medjay to reach him, something caught his eye. A brown object tucked into a large crack between two of the limestone blocks. He crawled over to it, ignoring the jeers of the crowd, and put his hand inside. He pulled out a small brown leather bag with a brass buckle. Inside he found three leather-bound books. Who put these here? he wondered. Madu took the books out, setting two of them down. On the cover of each book was the title, The Chronicles of Satraya, and below it a symbol embossed in gold leaf.
Madu noticed that as the rain fell on the books, the leather covers didn’t seem to get wet. And for some reason, as dire as Madu’s circumstances were, he felt compelled to open the book in his hand. When he did so, a blue orb emerged from the pages and hovered before him. A brilliant blue light emanated from it. The rain striking the blue orb vaporized with a sizzling sound. At first, it was the size of an orange, but it slowly grew larger. Madu stood and stepped away from the glowing orb, but it followed him, and within moments, the light engulfed the entire apex of the pyramid.
A single phrase sounded repeatedly in Madu’s head: In a time of great need, we are with you. Madu was mesmerized. He was surrounded by a warming blue light, the likes of which he had never seen or felt before. He lost all awareness of the crowd below, the Medjay climbing up the pyramid, Nadine lying unconscious a few meters below him. He could only focus on the blue orb and the light it was emitting.
Subtle electrical charges touched Madu’s body from head to toe. As the charges grew stronger, he felt his body vibrating and heard a ringing in his ears. The sound grew louder and louder, and the waves of vibration flowing through his body intensified. Then Madu heard a loud bang, like the sound of a firecracker. Instinctively, he cringed and shut his eyes, believing he’d taken his last breath.
When he opened his eyes a moment later, he found himself in a large square chamber with hieroglyphics on the walls. Tall granite pillar
s at each corner of the room supported the ceiling. He looked for a door but couldn’t find one. How had he gotten into the room? At the center of the ceiling was a large opening. Had he fallen through it? The light of the large blue orb continued to engulf Madu’s body, and as he moved, the blue light moved with him. He looked at the hieroglyphics etched on the walls. The same series of symbols was repeated over and over again.
What did it mean? At the center of the room was a round platform that stood about a half step off the ground. Madu walked over to it. An image of two flute players was carved into the surface.
When Madu stepped onto the platform, the air around him seemed to shimmer, as he had seen it do many times above the hot desert sand. He felt heat rising and heard a whistling sound like wind passing through a slightly opened window. He looked around but felt no air current or breeze. Then he felt a rumbling beneath his feet, but it only lasted a second or two. The granite pillars at the corners of the chamber were now glowing with a bright white light.
Madu felt more rumbling beneath his feet, and then there was silence. The electrical charge once again touched his body, and in the blink of an eye, he was back on top of the Menkaure Pyramid. The orb of blue light that had engulfed him began to shrink, until it was once again the size of an orange. After hovering before his eyes for a moment, it sank back into the pages of the book that he was still holding.
There was a great commotion below. Nadine! Madu thought, putting the book down next to the others. He quickly moved to the edge of the pyramid, looking for her, but he could only see the stain of her blood on the ledge. Madu saw that hordes of people had overrun the podium where the Khufus were sitting, and others had overwhelmed the Medjay guards, who were now held at gunpoint. He heard a voice calling him from the base of the pyramid. It was his friend Amun, who was standing next to Madu’s grandfather. Amun raised both his arms into the air and began to yell Madu’s name. The people standing near Amun followed his lead. What happened? Madu wondered, as he looked at the books lying on the limestone block next to the leather bag. What power do these books possess?
Journey Through the Mirrors Page 9
